


Feel

by tastewithouttalent



Category: 15 明刹工業高校ラグビー部 | 15 - Meisetsu Kougyou Koukou Rugby Bu
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:31:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7659391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Of all the things Jun likes about Mikiyo, he thinks the other’s size might be the best part." Jun loves the way Mikiyo feels against him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel

Of all the things Jun likes about Mikiyo, he thinks the other’s size might be the best part.

He doesn’t just mean his strength, although the more they train together the more evident that has become, as Mikiyo casually handles feats of athleticism that are impossibly distant for Jun at his current level. Nor is his mind wandering to more private reasons for gratitude, although that is definitely something he has come to appreciate over the last several months with the other boy. But better even than the frisson of heat that runs through Jun whenever Mikiyo picks up something too heavy for him to move or the immediate physical satisfaction that comes every time he first feels the stretch and friction of the other pushing into him is Mikiyo’s weight, the burden of the other’s body pressing him down against the bedsheets as if to brace him in place while Mikiyo rocks forward and into him on the first thrust of the familiar rhythm that fits between their bodies.

It’s one of Jun’s favorite positions to be in, like this, sprawled on his stomach over the bed while Mikiyo braces a hand over his shoulder and fucks up into him. He likes the way he can feel the heat of Mikiyo’s body pressing to his, likes the soft weight of the other’s stomach fitting against his ass and the curve of his spine; it makes his cock swell harder against the sheets under him, makes his hips rock up as if in pursuit of more while Mikiyo is already moving to thrust as deep inside him as he can. Jun can make a fist on the sheets, can arch his back to try to press himself nearer; but Mikiyo is already there, already pressing so close against Jun’s skin that there’s nothing but the slick of sweat between them, and Jun is breathing hard already without even doing anything but lying still beneath the other.

“Jun-chan,” Mikiyo says over him, a little breathless but nothing like as bad as Jun’s panting inhales are coming. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jun manages, hearing his voice crack and shiver in his throat in time with the slick drag of Mikiyo’s cock moving inside him. “Yeah, this is good.”

“Do you want a different angle?” Mikiyo shifts his weight back over the bed, his knee bracing against the inside of Jun’s as his skin catches warm against the other’s back; Jun shudders with the pull, his hips rocking down against the bed in an involuntary attempt at more friction as Mikiyo shifts.

“No,” he says, shutting his eyes to the distraction of his heat-hazed vision and blurry glasses and letting all his attention focus in against the radiant heat of Mikiyo’s body close against him and the slow friction of the other’s movement. “I like it like this, keep going.”

“Oh,” Mikiyo says, sounding a little shocked and startled in that way he always does when Jun offers any kind of out-loud agreement. “Okay” and he does, leaning in closer again to bracket Jun in place under his body as he finds a rhythm to the forward angle of his hips. Jun is left to tremble against the bed, to feel the slow-rising wave of heat along his spine swelling with the same weight and force of Mikiyo over him, as if the mere presence of the other’s form is enough to surge arousal up to the edge of satisfaction with every overheated inhale he takes against the sheets.

It’s easy to lose track of time. In the dark of Jun’s closed eyes his sense of his surroundings fades, even his grasp on the slow pulse of seconds sliding past goes slippery and vague. It doesn’t really matter; he can measure his existence by the thud of his heartbeat coming faster in his chest, can replace any need for time with the rhythm of Mikiyo thrusting into him and the jolts of pleasure that come with each forward motion. The air is warm, his breathing is heavy, his cock is hard and he doesn’t even want to reach down to stroke over himself, doesn’t want to hurry himself to the edge of the relief that will come with more physical sensation. He’s rocking against the bed with each of Mikiyo’s thrusts, dragging himself a little closer to the edge still too far-off to be seen; and then Mikiyo pauses over him, and takes a breath, and Jun can hear the effort on the sound even before Mikiyo says, “Jun-chan?” with nearly an apology under the sound of the other’s name.

“Oh,” Jun says. “Yeah,” and it’s his turn to reach for apology as he opens his eyes and blinks himself back into clarity of vision. “Do you want to switch?”

“Yeah,” Mikiyo says, his voice caught somewhere between relief and regret. “Sorry, after the run this morning--”

“It’s fine,” Jun says, quickly, before Mikiyo can spend time feeling worse than he needs to. “I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Mikiyo rocks back, sliding away to kneel against the end of the bed as Jun pushes up onto his hands and knees to turn over. Mikiyo’s hair is catching against his forehead, sticking to the sweat-damp against the other’s skin; Jun can feel his own skin radiating heat as if in answer, can feel the tangle of his hair shifting against his scalp as he lifts his head from the sheets under him and shakes his hair back from his face. “We could keep going like this if you want.”

“No, it’s fine.” Jun reaches for Mikiyo’s shoulders to brace his hand warm against the back of the other’s neck as he leans in; Mikiyo’s lashes flutter, his mouth curves onto an involuntary smile, and Jun pauses in what he’s saying to press a kiss against the other’s mouth and catch the edge of salt-sweat lingering at the edge of the other’s lips. Mikiyo groans appreciation and reaches out for Jun’s hip and Jun slides in closer, angling his knees open so he can straddle the width of the other’s thighs. Mikiyo smiles against his mouth, Jun loops his arm around Mikiyo’s shoulders, and when he leans forward Mikiyo falls backwards over the bed to let Jun sprawl atop him. Like this Jun can feel the soft of Mikiyo’s stomach under him, can press against the other’s chest to find the resistance of the muscle the other has built up underneath the curve of his shoulders, and he’s going harder even before he lets the other go enough to slide himself back and catch his weight on his knees. The bed gives under his weight, the dip of the mattress straining against the inside line of his thighs, but Jun doesn’t care; he’s bracing his hand flat against the support of Mikiyo’s shoulder, steadying his balance as he slides himself backwards to line himself up with the other’s cock.

“Oh,” Mikiyo groans again, “Jun-chan” and he’s reaching for the other’s hips, his fingers curling gentle against the edge of bone pressed close under Jun’s skin. Jun likes the feel of it, likes the warmth of Mikiyo’s hands catching to steady him, and more even than that he likes the way Mikiyo fits against him, with his legs spread open like this. Mikiyo’s gaze is dropping to the flush of Jun’s cock, his eyelashes are fluttering appreciation as Jun rocks backwards, and Jun watches the other’s face as he reaches back to brace Mikiyo’s cock in his hold, as he lets the force of gravity draw him down onto the resistance of Mikiyo sliding into him. Mikiyo’s breath leaves him in a rush, dragging to the outline of a groan at the back of his throat, and Jun rocks back farther, settling himself closer just for the satisfaction of the friction inside him. Mikiyo’s fingers tense at Jun’s hips, his palms pressing heat into the other’s skin, and Jun leans forward against the hand at Mikiyo’s shoulder and starts to move, finding a rhythm to the rocking movement of his hips to echo the thrusts Mikiyo was taking into him before. It’s a strain like this, Jun can feel the effort burning pleasant exertion along his legs and at the angle of his hips; but he can see Mikiyo this way, too, can watch the way Mikiyo’s whole expression is going slack with pleasure as he couldn’t before. If he rocks his hips forward he can bump his cock against the give of Mikiyo’s stomach, can grind himself against the sweat-slick friction of the other’s skin, and Jun’s breathing harder from that than he is from the physical effort required by his current position. Mikiyo is still watching his face, his gaze hazy on heat and affection at once, but Jun looks down instead to watch the head of his cock going slick with each rocking forward motion he takes that presses him in close against Mikiyo’s body.

“God,” he groans, and he has to let his second point of contact with the bed go, has to reach to wrap his fingers around himself and stroke up against the aching resistance of his cock. Mikiyo’s hold tightens at his hips, the pressure of his grip helping to steady what balance Jun is giving up by the shift of his position, but Jun still doesn’t look up; he’s watching the way Mikiyo’s stomach gives to the press of his cock, watching the way the sheen of sweat against the other’s skin catches with the slick of precome he’s drawing from himself with each stroke of his hand. His heart is pounding harder in his chest, his breathing catching faster in his throat as he moves, and he’s sure he’s losing the deliberate rhythm of his hips but he can hardly find it in himself to care when he can feel his throat going tighter on arousal with every stroke of his hand and every rock of his hips. Mikiyo is panting, now, gasping for air that’s straining on effort in his chest as he fills his lungs, and Jun can feel him rocking up, can feel the reflexive movement working in the other’s legs as he bucks up to meet the motion of Jun riding him. Jun’s eyelids are going heavy, his vision blurring out of his attention, but he’s moving faster, dragging his hand roughly over himself as his fingers tense at Mikiyo’s shoulder and his legs start to tremble with the pace he’s setting for his movement.

“Ah,” he manages, panting the sound more as a moan than anything with more intention. “Mikiyo, god, you’re so hot.”

“Jun-chan,” Mikiyo groans, sounding undone, like he can’t find the words for more. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you,” Jun says, and his vision is going, his sight is washing to white and his fingers are cramping around himself but he’s still moving, the slick slide of his palm and Mikiyo’s stomach against his cock are surging electricity up his spine and he’s not stopping, he’s not slowing, he’s rushing towards the edge and spilling honesty from his throat before he has a chance to think about it. “You’re so sexy, Mikiyo, I wish--” breaking off for a moment as Mikiyo’s hips come up at just the right angle to sink him a half-inch deeper, “-- _ah_ , god, I wish I could fuck you all the time.” Jun’s legs are shaking entirely now, his knees are sliding wider against the sheets with the tremors running through him, but he doesn’t stop; he doesn’t think there’s anything that could make him stop now. “You feel--you look so good, you _feel_ so good, Mikiyo, I--I’m--” and his breathing catches, his spine arching him back against the support of Mikiyo’s hold at his hips as his fingers clench tight and his body strains towards release. Mikiyo groans an inhale, his hold digs in tighter, and Jun shudders “ _Mikiyo_ ” and comes, his cock spilling stripes of white across the other’s stomach. Mikiyo makes a sound, something low and startled and helpless, and when he rocks up Jun grinds himself down to meet the other’s thrust and lets the heat of Mikiyo’s cock inside him drag another shudder of heat into his veins. Mikiyo moves again, rocking himself up for more; and then he tenses, his fingers pressing bruise-hard at Jun’s hips for just a moment before his hold gives way and his expression falls slack with the relief of satisfaction in his veins. Jun shifts his weight forward again, just to see the way Mikiyo shudders with the extra friction; and then he lets his hold go, and lets himself tip forward to lie heavy with heat over the other. Mikiyo’s hand leaves Jun’s hip, comes up to stroke through his hair instead, and Jun smiles, and turns his head against Mikiyo’s shoulder, and shuts his eyes to lose himself to the simple pleasure of the contact for a moment.

“Jun-chan?” Mikiyo says, after what feels like a few minutes and is long enough for both of them to have caught back the beginning of their breath.

Jun reaches for coherency, finds it by virtue of opening his eyes and blinking a few times to clear the haze from them. “Yeah?”  
Mikiyo turns his head in closer, his mouth catching and pressing against Jun’s forehead. “I love you,” he says, soft and fast, like he thinks Jun might pull away from the words, as if Jun has ever pulled away from Mikiyo. Jun smiles instead, feeling the happiness blossom warm all across his face, and when he lifts his hand it’s to catch at Mikiyo’s cheek to hold him still while Jun lifts his head from the other’s shoulder.

“I love you too, Mikiyo,” he says, and leans in to kiss at the soft of the other’s smile against his lips.

Jun always loves the way Mikiyo feels against him.


End file.
